


The Missing Piece

by Emono



Series: Saw AU [6]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Drama & Romance, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, M/M, Resolution, Saw AU, Suspense, long explanations, needs to be read last in series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: The Jigsaw victims recover but the case isn't closed. Toye isn't about to let this go. Working with his ex-partner Lieb once more, the two work together to hunt down Jigsaw. They soon discover their first lead - a possibly boyfriend. And as the pieces come together it dawns on them that Jigsaw might not be just one person.It was going to end, one way or another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whether you pick and choose the stories, this is the one you want to read last. This is the wrap up of the whole series taken place after all the other installments. Thank you guys for all the support and the comments. It's been really great and I appreciate it so much. I'm not sure how you guys will like it but here's the epilogue!

Ron woke up moments before his eyes would cooperate. He sucked in a noisy breath and managed to pry them open. He blinked hard at the alarm clock to get his vision to adjust. It was early, so early it was still dark outside the blinds. He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to figure out what had woken up him.

 

 _Ah_. His husband was sitting on the edge of the bed. Moonlight poured over his bare, hunched shoulders. He had his arm curled around him and Ron could see the tension plucking through his muscles. Ron sat up with a yawn and scooted out from under the covers to sit beside him, legs swinging over the side. The floor was cold on his feet and he flinched. He took Carwood’s injured arm and gentled it into his lap despite the muttered protest. He massaged into the tendons and muscle with practiced, soothing circles, just like the physical therapist had showed him.

 

Despite how quickly they’d gotten medical attention, Carwood had suffered some minor nerve damage from their Jigsaw game. They’d gotten out of their casts at the same time but Carwood had gotten it worse because the noble bastard had shoved his arm further into the trap. The stitches were out but he was still healing. Carwood’s therapy would last longer and the doctor said it was too early to tell whether he’d regain full functionality. With how quickly Carwood’s hand tired out, the force had put him on desk duty until he was cleared. His husband had admitted to feeling a bit useless but Toye had gotten him a good package to rest on while they waited.

  
  
Carwood had cut off to all ties to Lewis Nixon and now they were on their own.

 

Ron had resumed his mental along with his physical therapy and he was hoping to get back to work soon. Any job would be better than sitting around on his ass with his thoughts all the time. He could admit to himself he was ashamed of letting some trumped up God-complexed asshole get the jump on him. He was a marine, for fuck’s sake. Maybe he was a bit more alert now but he wasn’t going to let Jigsaw screw with his life more than he already had. The fear of abduction wouldn’t keep him from living his life and enjoying his husband.

 

Some ugly truths had come between them but they were working things out.

 

“It doesn’t usually hurt this bad.” It was a lie and they both knew it.

 

“Maybe it’s going to rain?” Ron teased.

 

“That’d be a useful super power.” Carwood groaned as some of the hurt seeped away. “How’s your arm?”

 

“Better,” Ron assured easily. He held out his hand and flexed it, wiggling his fingers. “You should know. My handjobs are better than ever.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t say _better_.”

 

They bumped shoulders and laughed, their smiles still a bit pale even after all these months. Ron exhaled as a firm hand fanned across his chest and tipped him backward onto the bed, urging him to scoot further up. He went willingly and stretched out. Carwood wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist and laid his cheek on his stomach. How he managed to curl that long, fit body up around Ron’s own was baffling but he somehow folded up nicely.

 

Ron carded his fingers through his husband’s fine hair and hummed. He let the warmth soak into him and relaxed. “I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Lifetime,” Carwood muttered into his skin.

 

“Shut up,” Ron griped, tugging his hair. “I’m trying to have a moment here.”

 

Carwood nosed at his stomach with a growing smile. “Do you want me to write you a poem?”

 

Ron smacked him upside the head with an eyeroll. “The moment’s gone.”

 

Carwood chuckled and propped his head up on him. “Would a blowjob help?”  
  
  
  
“It wouldn’t _hurt_.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

David dry heaved and clutched the sheets as he tried to chase off the nightmare. His neck and palms were slick with clammy sweat and he couldn’t stop shivering. As he struggled to catch his breath, he clutched around his middle and tried not to get sick. He struggled to banish the thoughts of faceless voices and steel chains and anchor himself in the _now_.

 

Rushed footsteps echoed in the hallway. David felt a rush of guilt when the door was thrown open and Joe was there with his gun. He must’ve been screaming again. Joe slumped against the frame when he saw the room was empty and sighed in relief. He flipped the safety back on the gun and tucked it back into the holster. “Need some water?”

 

David shook his head and raked back his damp hair. “I’m fine.”

 

Joe ambled over and dropped to his knees beside the bed, huffing but trying to smile. “So, you ready to tell the story again?”

 

David groaned and resisted the urge to flop back down onto the pillows. “Is that today?”

 

“We’ve got an hour and a half.” Joe checked his watch and pulled a face. “I got you some breakfast so you should have enough time to shower.”

  
  
“How many more times do we have to talk about Jigsaw for fuck’s sake?” David grumbled. He tipped his head back to the ceiling and puffed out a frustrated breath. “I’m lucky enough the school didn’t find out. It’s all anyone would ask me about for the rest of my life. How am I going to become a professor if all my students _know_?”

 

His voice rose to a hysteric pitch and Joe was quick to take his hand and kiss it.

 

“Hey, hey,” Joe soothed. “We’re doing everything we can to keep all the names quiet. If anyone leaks your name, I’ll fucking-”

 

He bit off that thought before he could finish it. That kind of behavior was what had landed them in Jigsaw’s line of sight in the first place. He took a few slow breaths and kissed David’s hand again. “I’m not going to let them ruin your life. Not when we worked so hard to save it. Okay?”

 

“You’re a sap,” David accused, lips finally curving in a smile.

 

“Yeah, so what?” Joe challenged, but there was no heat there. He pulled the prosthetic out from under the bed and shook out the straps. It was in stark contrast to Joe’s own, though it covered about the same amount of leg, from foot to mid calf. Joe’s prosthetic was sleek and black with gold accents and he showed it off when he could. David’s was the color of his own skin, matte, almost boring but the highest functioning Joe could get his hands on.

 

David was a broke college kid without the money his parents wired him. He didn’t want to tell them what had happened, still hadn’t, and was putting it off for as long as he could manage. Toye had managed to get them a deal for short and long term medical treatment for their cooperation with the investigation and insurance had covered the rest. But once Joe had seen the generic crap the insurance company issued them he decided to use the rest of his stashed away money to get them the best on the market.

 

David pushed back the blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The left leg matched Joe’s right, cut off mid calf from where they’d been forced to saw through their own legs to get out of the Jigsaw trap. Months later and David was still choking through the nightmares, and putting on the prosthetic made him queasy. Joe didn’t mind putting it on for him. It felt good to be taking care of David in the small ways.

 

Especially since he’d fucked up so bad he’d nearly cost them both their lives.

 

After the prosthetic was strapped on and clipped tight, Joe scooted closer and collapsed under the weight of his guilt. He pressed his face to David’s thigh and breathed him in. He smelled like nightmare sweat and sleep warm skin. Joe turned his head and rested his cheek there, humming when David’s hand made it’s way into his hair.

 

“I love you, “Joe confessed. “I want to say it everytime I touch you. I’m kind of afraid you’re going to stop believing it.”

 

“The fact that you say it at all means everything,” David admitted though Joe hated that faint note of awe in his voice.

 

“I’m sorry about before.” He’d said it a hundred times since their capture but he’d meant it every time. Joe had made David doubt his love instead of making him feel like he was one of the last few things that mattered to him. He didn’t know what he was going to do to make it up to David but he took every moment to try. Joe sat up and brushed a kiss across his boyfriend’s unsuspecting mouth and surprised a real smile out of him. “I really don’t fucking deserve you.”

 

David tapped his foot against Joe’s prosthetic with a thump. “I think you kind of earned it.”

 

He thumbed under one of those brilliantly blue eyes and felt his heart swell up with how much he fucking _loved_ this man. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life earning it.”

 

David went wide eyed and breathless, chest noticeably hitching as he leaned into the touch. “That’s...probably the most romantic and gayest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“No! Keep going,” David insisted with a grin. “My heart has a hard on.”

 

Joe rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to smack him. “Just get in the fucking shower, asshole.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Joe hoped he didn’t look too much like an 80’s film waiting outside the rehabilitation center in his work suit and aviators. But those thoughts were background noises compared to his fluttering nerves. He wasn’t the anxious type normally, but it had been months since he’d seen George for more than a couple minutes and never outside the facility. He kept looking to the folder he had resting on the hood of his car.

 

Four months he’d been waiting for this. George had checked himself into rehab the day after their Jigsaw game. He’d taken to therapy, listened to the doctors, done whatever he could to get clean. It was all leading up to this.

 

The doors opened and again he wondered if he was in some kind of movie. George stepped out into a shaft of sunlight and Joe was _struck_. It was as if seeing him for the first time. Light, fluffy hair and doe eyes crinkled up in the first of that hundred watt smile. He was close shaven and filled out his clothes in a new, healthier way. That smile turned into an outright smirk and he founded toward Joe in his fresh sneakers.

 

“Special Agent Toye,” George greeted with a little half-ass curtsy, chuckling.

 

“George Luz.”

 

“Miss me?”

 

Joe caught his arm and dragged him into a hug, keeping him close and a tight squeeze in return. They both sighed and enjoyed the feel of one another, solid and real and _alive_. It lasted longer than it should’ve but it was hard to let go. When they stepped away it was barely any space at all and they were smiling.

 

Joe slipped his shades up into his hair, shamelessly looking him over. “I have a present for you.”

 

“A ‘good job kicking drugs’ present?” George questioned. “It better be good.”

 

Joe took up the file and handed it over.

 

George thumbed through it. “Looks like paperwork. What’s up? Am I fired?”

 

“Yeah you are.”

 

George raised a brow at that. “Then why are you smiling?”

 

“You’re not affiliated with the FBI anymore. Which means…” Joe trailed off, mirth bleeding from his voice as he realized he wasn’t sure what George wanted. What he hoped was an exciting surprise and a new beginning might’ve just been the final chapter in their story. They’d written letters back and forth, called when allowed, a handful of visits, but mostly George had been kept in isolation to fully heal.

 

What if he changed his mind?

 

“It means,” George continued with a cheeky grin, putting on a thick Southern drawl. “Means I can kiss you anytime I want.”

 

Joe sighed through his nose. “You know I really, _really_ hate that movie.”

 

George snickered and threw his arms around him, catching his mouth in a kiss. It was chaste compared to their usual touches but it made Joe’s heart warm over. He curled an arm around George’s waist and held him tight.

 

“I know I said it stupid the first time, but I meant it,” George whispered against his lips, lashes fluttering over doe eyes.

 

Joe frowned a little. “Meant what?”

 

“That I love you,” George admitted, starting to pull away with a furrow between his brows. “If you didn’t meant it-”

 

“I meant it,” Joe promised fiercely. He dragged George back against him and cupped his cheek. He brushed a soft kiss across his mouth to take the frown away. “I think I owe you a date, Mr. Luz. Hell, I think I owe you a lot more than that.”  


  
“We’ve got time,” George assured impatiently, tugging at his jacket. “Just kiss me again.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

“How are you guys doing?”

 

Joe winced as he got two sharp glares but he couldn’t blame them. He deserved it and worse. The diner was dull background noise and muted colors. He hated coming down to Kentucky. The whole place reeked of nostalgia and he felt like he was looking at the world through a polaroid camera. It was muted and sepia, like a half forgotten memory. The diner was so picturesque it was cliche but the men sitting across from him were not amused.

 

Snafu had bundled himself into the inner booth, hood pulled up and nearly clawing his hands open in his lap as he tried to be still. Joe had offered to release Snafu from his contract, no strings attached, but he’d wanted to stay with Hoosier if the man would have him. From how Hoosier had his arm slung protectively along the back of Snafu’s seat, from how their thighs pressed under the table, Joe could safely say they were inseparable for now.

 

Joe had pried the complete story out of the two of them and it seemed Jigsaw had showed them a few painful truths. If they could survive that, then they had his blessing for what little that was worth.

 

“Fine,” Hoosier grunted. “Eddie said you had something to tell us? Don’t tell me you flew all the way down to Kentucky to get another pot-shot in, Special Agent?”

 

It was bitter and curt and Joe expected no less. “I’m following some leads on the Jigsaw case. There’s some potential eyewitnesses to your abductions.”

 

“You’re _still_ on that?” Snafu hissed, eyes darting around the diner. There were red, slightly puckered scars from his own trap forming along his cheeks. They looked angry but were on the mend. “After everything? I know you were on leave for your fucking heart, Joe. You want to lose a God damn leg next time?”

 

“I also came here for you two,” Joe asserting, banishing the memory of Webster and Lieb’s mangled legs. “I’m assigning you a new FBI contact. His name is Sidney Phillips and he’s a sweet kid. He’s one of those types who are just happy the sun rises every day.”

 

Hoosier broke into a grin. “So you’re saying he’s a pushover?”

 

“Pretty much,” Joe conceded.

 

Hoosier pulled his shades out of his shirt and slipped them on as he eased out of the booth. “New FBI hook up - got it. We’ll keep on guard for that psycho. Keep us posted. Let’s go, Mer.”

 

Joe tried not to wince under the blazing glare Snafu seared him with as he followed his boyfriend out of the diner. He signaled the waitress and hastily ordered whatever homemade pie they had. He had a flight to catch and he needed some kind of treat for having the balls to face the men he’d fucked over.

 

They could hate him all they wanted. He was just glad to see them alive.


	2. Chapter 2

A heavy fist pounded on Lieb’s front door and he sat up out of a dead sleep. Everything inside him kicked to life and his instincts took over, hands going to the nightstand to snatch his gun. He flicked off the safety and sat up on his knees, wobbling only slightly as he aimed at the door.

 

Nothing. He tuned his ears but there wasn’t a creak of floorboards or a telltale burglar rattling. Then the knock came again.

 

Lieb shifted his grip and reached down with his land hand to run his fingers through David’s hair. He always slept closest to the door just in case something like this happened. That and his boyfriend could sleep through a tornado. “David, wake up. Someone’s here.”

 

David fussed, nose scrunching up as he struggled to wake up. “Joe?”

 

“Get up,” Lieb insisted, patting his cheek. “There’s a gun under the bed. Stay here. Don’t come out unless I say.”

 

David inhaled sharply and rubbed his eyes to brush off his exhaustion. “Okay, be careful.” Joe waited for David to take the gun out from under the bed frame and carefully thumb off the safety. “Brace my wrist, right? Squeeze don’t pull?”

 

“Good. Keep an eye on the door while I put this fucking foot on.”

 

Secured in his prosthetic, Lieb cleared the whole apartment room by room. He had his phone in his pocket and ready to make the call the second he caught a hint of Jigsaw. With every window secure and no sign of intrusion he headed to the front door where the knocking continued. “Who is it?”

 

Lame but effective.

 

“Joe, it’s me!”

 

Lieb lowered the gun and rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. “What do you want, Toye?”

 

“I need to talk to you.”

 

“It’s three AM, asshole,” Lieb groused as he slid back the safety and put the gun on the side table by the door. He craned his neck toward the hall. “Put the gun away, babe, it’s just Toye!”

 

Lieb opened up the door and sighed at the sight of his ex-partner. Joe looked like a mess. He was still in the clothes he’d worn to work and everything was wrinkled, tie gone and cuffs undone, jacket discarded to show off his forearms under rolled-up sleeves. He had a heavy five o'clock shadow across his firm jaw and sleepless smudges below his eyes. Lieb would’ve laughed at the exhausted-cop cliche if he hadn’t been so bone tired.

 

Joe struggled to juggle all the cases in his arms. “Can I come in?”

 

“Sure, why the fuck not? Take off your shoes.”

 

Lieb led him to the kitchen and flipped on the light. He plopped down at the kitchen table as Joe started spreading the files out on the counter. There was a lot of red ink in there.

 

“What do we know about Jigsaw?” Joe asked, waving one of the files in his direction.

 

“Not much, which is why he’s still at large,” Lieb snarked, rubbing his temple where he could feel the start of a headache. Toye’s renewed obsession with solving the Jigsaw case was admirable during regular hours but these impromptu visits were getting old. “Have you been drinking?”

 

Joe frowned. “No.”

 

“Maybe you should,” Lieb snorted, tossing his head to the fridge. “Want a beer?”

 

Joe checked his watch. “It’s three AM, Lieb.”

 

“You’re the one in my kitchen, asshole!” Lieb snapped, baring his teeth. “You scared the shit out of me and woke up my boyfriend! I barely put this fucking thing on.” He gestured to his prosthetic with an exasperated scowl.

 

Joe’s hands clawed at the air, teeth grit. “ _Just_...humor me, okay?”

 

“Oh yeah, like you have ground to be fucking frustrated,” Lieb grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Go on.”

 

Joe shot him a hard look before starting to sift through the files again. “So far the only descriptions we’ve had of Jigsaw is male, short dark hair, white, average height - pretty plain across the board.”

 

“Most of those descriptions come from unreliable witnesses like, oh, me and Web, Hoosier, and Lip,” Lieb reminded him. “According to your boy, Luz-” He hesitated just a beat there. _That_ was still a sore spot between them. Lieb bore a new scar on his eyebrow from where Joe had knocked his head against a desk after he’d been officially cleared by the doctor.  “-there might be two of them of similar features. Dark hair and all that.”

 

Joe’s jaw ticked beneath his skin.

  
  
Lieb swiped up his pack of cigarettes off the counter. “Smoke?”

 

Joe waved him off. Lieb shrugged and shook out a smoke, lighting up with one quick flick and pull. “So, Toye, you wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t anything new. Cough it up.”

 

“Lip said he remembered a doctor in the hospital fitting that description.”

 

“Toye,” Lieb sighed, suddenly needing that beer he’d been joking about. “A lot of doctors look like that. Web and Speirs _both_ look like that.”

 

“But Hoosier said he saw the same type of man when he visited Snafu,” Joe insisted, waving a piece of paper that had several hospital addresses circled and marked accordingly. “Some doctor gave him creepy vibes. White, dark haired, average height, early thirties. We should’ve thought of this earlier but what if Jigsaw works at these hospitals?”

 

Lieb perked up at that. It was an angle they hadn’t explored yet. “All of them?”

 

“Some doctors float. With how overrun all the places are around here, I bet they don’t say no when someone wants to work the clinic or take an ER shift,” Joe pointed out. “I mean, where else have all the victims been? _Hospitals_. It’s a common enough area. Didn’t Web get hurt a while back?”

 

“He broke two fingers,” Lieb remembered with growing realization. “I came with him to get them set and stinted. I made a couple phone calls.”

 

“To?” Joe lead.

 

“Hoosier.” Lieb bit down on his lip and shame flagged his cheeks. “And Luz.”

 

“We’ve both been shot or grazed multiple times in the past two years, so has Lip. George overdosed and Speirs fell off a ladder in the same month. If someone were looking to make connections, it wouldn’t be hard.”

 

The tired cogs in Lieb’s mind were finally starting to whir. “So how the fuck do you know hospitals let docs float like that?”

 

Joe shrugged. “I talked to some nurses.”

 

“What a hardship,” Lieb snorted. “I’m sure there’s a bunch of guys who fit that description but it might be something.”

 

“There’s something else,” Joe tempted.

 

“What?”

 

“George ran into an old friend at rehab. Apparently this guy heard the word on the street and came to see him. Guess what he looks like?”

 

Lieb gave in when Joe laid an old ID on the counter and tapped it, daring him closer. He hauled himself to his feet and walked over, leaning against the linoleum with his hip. It was an old college ID and poorly taken care of. The picture was of a good enough looking guy with shaggy dark hair and brown eyes. He fit the description.

 

“Where’d you get this?”

 

“George found it laying around his apartment. They used to hang out a lot.”

 

“So you think George’s old friend is Jigsaw?” Lieb asked incredulously.

 

“No...I mean, maybe,” Joe faltered. “I think it’s worth looking into at least. I say we track this guy down and find out everything we can. Even if it’s nothing, it could be _something_.”

 

“Visited him in rehab, huh?” Lieb sucked on his smoke with a thoughtful frown. “How long since they’d seen each other?”

 

“A long time.”

 

“Just so happen to hear Georgie-boy was there?”

 

“Just so happened.”

 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Lieb decided, stubbing his cigarette out in an ashtray on the counter before grabbing Joe. “Let’s go.”

 

Joe frowned but let himself be manhandled out of the kitchen toward the front door. “The files-”

 

“Leave them. _You_ are going home.”

 

“Joe, this is fucking serious-”

 

“Go home, fuck Luz, get some sleep, do whatever you need to do,” Lieb ordered over his indignant ramble, shoving him to the door and pointing at his shoes. “Because it’s going to be a long ass day tomorrow. We’ll hunt this guy down.”

 

Joe sagged in relief and Lieb wanted to shake him for thinking he’d turn down a hot lead. “I’ll call you.”

 

“If it wakes up Web, I’m going to let him take a swing at you.”  


  
“That’s fair.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Once they started digging, _really_ digging, pieces started falling together. It was hard to see the bigger picture at first but still they foraged for whatever they could in hopes of finding something to put them on the scent. Unearthing ‘Ralph Spina’ had kicked up some dust. He man had gone to medical school in New York and out of the whole class only three had stayed within city limits. Asking around about those three individuals had almost been a waste of time except there was one doctor in particular that stood out.

 

All the nurses they spoke to sung his praises and a lot of the orderlies had admitted to admiring his dedication. Eugene Roe from somewhere low in Louisiana. Skilled, aloof, ‘soulful’ eyes, and he fit their description just as well as Spina did.

 

At the station, Joe leaned against Lieb’s desk as the other man brought up everything they had on Eugene Roe.

 

“Looks like the only time he’s had a brush with police was when he rolled his car off a cliff,” Lieb stated as he read off the scanned documents. “Police got a report on a mangled car and there was so much blood they declared it a murder scene. Turns out he apparently crawled to the road through the woods and a local picked him up. When he came to he told police it was an accident. They found booze in what was left of his car but by the time they could test him they couldn’t prove anything. They suspected it might’ve been a suicide attempt but with no one else involved, no real property damage, they let it go.”

 

Joe nodded along, arms crossed and head tipped back in thought. “Okay. Trauma. That fits the profile.”

 

Lieb scratched at the start of his beard. “So what happened to this Spina guy? He was in medical school and then what?”

 

Joe pulled out his notepad and flipped through it to refresh himself. He’d spoken to his boyfriend (and _God_ , didn’t that feel good to say?) and a couple sources from the rehab facility. “He left school when he got a bad drug habit. George said they would go on week-long benders together. Then one day he drops off the face of the Earth, disappears for like two months or something. He comes back, fresh out of rehab, and asked George to get clean. Or at least that’s what George remembers. He was kind of passed out at the time.”

 

“So this kid drops out of a competitive class in a dream school where he’s doing pretty okay and goes off the radar, hits rehab,” Lieb reasoned, ticking off the phases on his fingers. “Then resurfaces to do what?”

 

“Get his engineering degree,” Joe finished, flicking to the next page where he’d bulleted Spina’s life accomplishments. “A Master’s in Engineering with a three-point-five GPA on the nose.”

 

“Well shit,” Lieb tisked. “So where’s he work now?”

 

“He does freelance construction.”

 

“So he can choose his jobs and has workable hours. Guess that means he has a lot of free time on his hands.”

 

“I’m thinking something crazy,” Joe admitted, setting his notepad aside. He slipped a hand in his pocket and his fingers found the familiar curve and wind of his rosary. He thumbed over it with a sigh. “It might be _too_ crazy.”

 

Retuned with his ex-partner’s moods, Lieb hummed. “Are you thinking about what the hell made Spina flip a switch like he did?”

 

“All these suggestions of two Jigsaws have got me thinking. It’s too much work for one person. It’s a meld of surgical precision and mad engineering skills. Maybe we’re not looking one hyper intelligent man, maybe we’re looking for _two_ smart ones. Mentor and apprentice. Hell, maybe more,” Joe mused, thumb catching in the cross at the end of his rosary. “This is intimate work, Lieb. They’d have to trust each other with _everything_. If it is two of them? They’re not going to go quietly.”

 

Lieb almost felt a tangible click in his head. “He might be the first test subject. Patient zero.”

 

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Joe sighed through his nose and felt a little sheepish. “Kind of farfetched.”

 

“Fuck it!” Lieb declared, kicking away fromt eh desk and snatching up his jacket off the chair. “I say we sniff ‘em both out. Starting with Dr. Roe.”

 

Joe felt a fresh wave of energy wash through him as Lieb came alive with the scent of a new lead. He nodded and grabbed his own jacket.

 

“Hungry?” Lieb asked, walking backward toward the door. “We can grab some sandwiches on the way.”

 

“From that place you never told me where it was?”

 

Lieb shrugged. “Maybe this once you can see it. I’ll let you keep your eyes open and everything.”

 

“I hope so since I’m driving.”

 

They shared a grin and a chuckle and it felt like the past three years had never happened. They were getting close.

 

o0o0o0o

 

Ralph yelped but didn’t put up a fight as Gene grabbed him by the shirt and threw him up against the door. He’d never seen his mentor so furious. Gene was _wild_ , all bared teeth and razor sharp eyes that sliced right through him.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Ralph flushed in shame and tears started to sting the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

 

“They’re looking for us! The Feds - Toye, Liebgott - they’ve got our names in their mouths!” Gene hissed. He visibly reigned himself back in and Ralph bit back a sob. Gene took his face in his rough palms and tried to stay calm though his voice trembled. “Ralph, what did you _do_?”

 

“I-I went and saw George at rehab,” Ralph confessed. He winced at the way Gene’s face fell. “I just wanted to see if he was sticking to it! And I...I stopped by his room to tell him I was proud of him.”

 

Gene breathed out through his nose and his eyes fell closed. “You didn’t.”

 

Ralph blinked and a tear broke free to tickle his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Gene. Please don’t…”

 

“What? Hurt you?” Gene murmured, voice low and eyes etched in fresh misery. He took Ralph’s mouth in a kiss that caught the man off guard. Ralph couldn’t relax even as he parted his lips for him. Fingertips ran along his cheek and when the kiss broke their noses brushed. Ralph couldn’t choke down a wounded noise and Gene looked heartbroken. “You think I would?”

 

“I-I don’t know,” Ralph admitted, trembling against the wall. “I’ve ruined everything.”

 

“No, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Gene crooned. He brought Ralph into a hug and let him bury his face in his shoulder. He rubbed his back and whispered a slew of sweet French in his ear to try and calm his hitching breaths. Still the tears came.

 

“I fucked it all up!” Ralph whined, clutching at him. “I don’t know why I did it. They know, they fucking _know_. They’re going to find me.” He pulled back with panic in his wide, wet eyes. “You have to run. You gotta’ get out of town before they link you to me! People have seen us together. And Babe, fuck, Gene, _Babe_.”

 

Gene grabbed him by the nape and slanted a kiss across his nervous mouth, silencing him. Ralph squirmed and pawed at him but eventually settled. He slumped against Gene and the man took care to wrap him up in his arms.

 

“We have to go, sweetheart,” Gene whispered, eyes flicking over his apprentice’s distraught face. “Wipe down everything. Pack what you need and get ready to burn the rest. We leave tomorrow night.”

 

“But-” Ralph snapped his mouth shut and dropped his chin.

 

Gene threaded his fingers through dark hair and tugged him up to look at him. “I’m not leaving without you, Ralph. I won’t have you taking the blame.” Ralph made a weak noise of protest and he pressed their cheeks. Gene savored the contact and hoped it wouldn’t be taken away from him so soon after getting it. “And there’s one more thing we have to do.”

 

“I don’t want to,” Ralph rasped.

 

“We have to,” Gene insisted. It was one of the few things he wouldn’t bend on. They’d had the discussion before and the rules would not change. “Won’t be right just to leave.”

 

Ralph sucked in a shaky breath but managed to nod. “Okay, Doc. Yeah, I’ll...I’ll get right on it.”

 

“Stay a moment,” Gene begged, hands sliding down his arms to lace their fingers. “Just...Ralph, I…”

 

He urged his apprentice back into a hug and they held each other tight, unsure of what was to come.

 

Lips brushed Ralph’s ear and he shivered. “You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine. We’ll do it together.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

“Edward Heffron. Nice to meet you. I’m Special Agent Joe Toye with the FBI and this is my colleague, Detective Joe Liebgott.”

 

“Joe and Joe. There’s slapstick in the making there.”

 

Detective Liebgott’s laugh had held no mirth. “Take a seat.”

 

They were just men. That’s what Babe kept telling himself to keep his panic down. Two men in suits, men he’d sure he’d seen on the news. He’d been asked to come in to help with a local investigation and to show his good faith he’d obeyed. His Ma had always told him to be honest and listen to police and so far he’d done a pretty good job of keeping his nose clean. They weren’t exactly mean but they were intimidating as they asked him regular questions. Where he grew up, what he did for a living, if he was in school, if him and any of his friends, if he was seeing anyone…

 

Babe finally had enough. “I’m sorry, what does this have to do with anything? I’m happy to help but-”

 

“Mr. Heffron,” Toye cut off smoothly. “Have you been keeping up with the news lately? There’s a serial killer on the loose, you know.”

 

“Oh! The Jigsaw stuff?” Babe puzzled, wondering if he might’ve seen something to actually help. “Yeah, of course. It’s all over TV. It’s some guy doing his vigilante justice stuff, right?”

 

Liebgott’s hand curled into a fist on the table but he didn’t notice. “Not quite.”

 

“Weren’t all those people criminals?” Babe asked. “Making people pay for what they did when you guys couldn’t? Kind of sounds like some Batman shit to me. Oh man, you guys are on _that_ case?” He whistled lowly. “Wouldn’t want to be you. Didn’t they say some cops were involved? Anyone you fellas know?”

 

The look on their faces told him everything. He flushed and quickly sat up straight. “Ah, sorry. My mouth runs away with me. What would my Ma say? I’m here to help! What do you need to know?”

 

Toye walked behind Liebgott and passed the detective a photo. Liebgott laid the picture on the table and slid it across to him. “Do you know this man?”

 

Babe startled to see Ralph’s face looking back up at him. “Of course. That’s my boyfriend.” He clenched his teeth as he fought to bite back something bitter. “You got a problem with that, Detective?”

 

“None,” Liebgott assured him curtly, taking the next picture from his partner without looking. He slapped the picture down and slid it next to Ralph’s picture. “But tell us what you know about _him_.”

 

Babe’s mouth fell in a dumb gape as he stared at Gene’s picture. The man’s handsome, stoic face stared back at him though he looked a little younger. Dread suddenly filled his chest and he wanted to book it. The stares of the detectives were heavy and expectant. Babe felt sweat bead along the small of his back and he drew his hands into his lap to hide the nervous twitches starting in his fingers. Something whispered in the back of his mind to be quiet, to keep his mouth shut.

 

“You do know him, don’t you?” Liebgott dug.

 

“Yes,” Babe admitted quietly. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“How much do you know about these men, Mr. Heffron?”  


o0o0o0o

 

Babe fumbled with his keys as he tried to rush in and dropped them onto the stoop. He scrubbed his hands over his face with a groan. He was exhausted, frustrated, and he missed most of work because those fucking detectives had kept him all evening. They’d prodded at him for hours until he’d buckled and asked for a lawyer. He’d been hoping they’d leave it but their determination was as admirable as it was devastating in what it brought up. Babe’s head was spinning from it all.

 

The detectives had said Ralph could very well be connected to the Jigsaw murders. They had wanted to know about what Ralph did for a living, where he was in his spare time, and Babe had kept his mouth shut as much as he could but now he had questions of his own. The charity work Ralph did...is that what it really was? He’d never wanted to badger his boyfriend about it but he was starting to realize he’d been told exactly enough to sate his curiosity. Babe hadn’t cared about secrets when he was in bed with Ralph, out on dates, pressed together on his old couch during crappy sci-fi movies. None of the other stuff had mattered because he was in love.

 

And they’d asked about Gene too. It had been implied that the two could be partners in those killings. Babe couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Gene was shy and quiet, thoughtful, a real gentleman. Ralph was sarcastic and full of laughter, sweet and cheeky. They were the best boyfriends he’d ever had. He thought himself lucky to have them. They treated him like he was special and pampered him in a way he’d only ever done to his lovers before. They cared about him and they showed it.

 

And now they were suspects in one of the biggest serial killing cases in the country, in the past decades. Longer, even. How could the men he’d fallen in love with be those same killers?

 

Babe finally got his door open and headed inside. He frowned at the dark apartment. He could’ve sworn he’d left at least a lamp on before he’d left. A shadow crept into the corner of his vision before he was grabbed by the shirt and pushed against the wall. He whipped his head around and saw Gene standing there, gloved hand spread against the door, eyes focused on him with an intensity that stole his breath. The hands curls in his shirt gentled and it was Ralph there, his gaze more earnest and apologetic. He hadn’t expected this.

 

“Guys-”

 

Gene put a finger to his own lips and Babe shut his mouth. “There’s no time, Edward. They’re looking for us.”

 

Babe’s stomach did a twist and dropped, a whimper slipping past his lips. It was true, then. It was all true. “Those cops were right.”

 

“Babe, listen.” Ralph wet his lips, glancing at Gene. “We want you to come with us.”

 

“What?” His chest was so tight he could barely get the word out.

 

“We’ve got a fake license and passport for you and everything,” Ralph promised. “Gene’s got it all set up. We’ll get out of the country and they’ll never find us.”

 

“You should go to the cops and explain everything. They seemed okay enough, they’d go easy on you,” Babe pressed though he couldn’t really believe his own words. “Shit, if you didn’t do it then…”

 

But as he looked at their faces he could see the truth. He slumped against the wall and felt his heart crack. Except they _did_ do it. They wouldn’t meet his eyes and Ralph looked like he was bracing himself to be thrashed. Babe waited for the revulsion to hit him, for some sense of hatred to well up, but there was nothing. His heart was heavy but the rest of him was struggling to come to terms with what was going on, what Ralph was asking.

 

Gene’s eyes flicked to the windows then back to the door. “Edward…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, no time,” Babe muttered.

 

“It’s up to you,” Ralph insisted. He let go of his boyfriend to dig out a piece of folded paper and slip it into Babe’s pocket. “Take your time. I…” He hadn’t expected the kiss but melted into it all the same. The familiar press and give of Ralph’s lips was a balm on his fried nerves and he ached when they left. “I love you. Whether you call or not don’t change that.”

 

“Ralph, don’t leave,” Babe pleaded, clinging to his sleeves. Ralph swallowed thickly and shook his head, jerking away like it hurt too much. “Ralph-”

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Ralph pulled up his hood and tilted down his hat, never once looking back as he headed out the back of the apartment.

 

Yet Gene lingered. There was something cold in his face, cheekbones carved deep in the moonlight. Even now Babe could say the man was gorgeous. Suddenly Gene was terrifying, chiseled from pure ice and twice as sharp. Babe flinched as the man took Ralph’s place and crowded him up against the wall. The past few months of intimacy seemed to disappear between them.

 

Then something softened around those eyes and Gene’s chapped mouth trembled. He took Babe’s hand and ran his thumb over the back of it, sending goosebumps along freckled skin.

 

“I want you to come, Babe,” Gene professed with an uncharacteristic tenderness. “But if you don’t, then you don’t. We’ll miss you. We...we care about you, you know that don’t you? It’s only been a few months but there it is.” Gene looked off and dropped his hand, fingers flexing like they missed the contact. “Stupid idea, falling in love. I told Ralph it was a bad idea. God damn it.”

 

He spat the curse and Babe simply gawked at him. Those words from Gene’s lips sent warm flutters all through his chest. Ralph had told him before, and he’d said it back, but this felt different. This wasn’t giggled into his mouth or huffed against his throat, this was in the cold of their possible last night together. This meant something. “You guys love me?”

 

“Of course we do,” Gene snapped. He bit back his town and looked rather sheepish. He crossed his arms over his chest and struggled to meet his eyes. “Didn’t want it to happen like this but nothin’ I can do now but try to fix it. We’ll wait for you as long as we can.”

 

Gene brushed a chaste kiss across his mouth, brief like smoke, and then the man was following Ralph’s path out the back.

 

“Gene?” he called tentatively.

 

He paused and Babe took it as a good sign.

 

“You called me Babe.”

 

Gene turned on his heels with a pouted frown and a furrow between his brows. “Did I? When?”  


“Just now.”

 

“ ‘Spose I did,” Gene drawled with a ghost of a smile.

 

Then he was gone.

 

o0o0o0o

 

Babe couldn’t sleep yet the night went on.

 

He tried watching crap TV and listening to music but in the end he sat quietly on his bed with his phone in front of him. He simply stared between the device and the number scrawled in Ralph’s careful handwriting. Special Agent Joe Toye had left him a voicemail but he he didn’t want to listen. But the sky was starting to lighten up and he knew he couldn’t put it off anymore. He collapsed into his pillows and gathered the courage to push the button.

 

_‘Mr. Heffron, this is Special Agent Toye. I know we might have scared you off earlier but I wanted to say...I wanted you to know that you’d be doing something for the greater good if you talked to us about Spina and Roe. I know they may seem like good men but I’ve seen up close what Jigsaw has done. You’d be helping bring closure to a lot of people. I’m not going to lie and say he - they - fucked up a lot of lives, because...well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how the victims lives were affected. But Jigsaw can’t be allowed to continue this. It’s too much power. He has no right to play God. None of us do.’_

 

The man’s voice great quiet, reserved, a husk of a whisper.

 

_‘Call me back, Babe. We can catch Jigsaw. Together.’_

 

Babe’s heart bled for the victims. How many people had Jigsaw hurt? Gene, Ralph...how many people had they let die? From what Babe had seen on the news and what Liebgott had showed him through crime scene photos the results were gruesome. They’d brought out glossy pictures of ‘Jigsaw traps’ that he’d found both impressive and horrifying. He wasn’t as disgusted as he should’ve been and that old Catholic guilt ate him up. When he thought of Ralph or Gene making those traps all he could see were those calloused hands, remember their touch, how they cradled his jaw and rubbed his back.

 

There must’ve been something worth loving in Babe if two killers treated him so sweetly and gave him this option at a new life.

 

Babe picked up the paper with the number on it in one hand, grabbing his phone with the other. He brought up the Special Agent’s number on the screen and his thumb went for the call button. But something made him pause. He looked between the numbers, lip trapped in his teeth.

 

It was going to end, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for the whole series! Thanks for following the story and leaving such amazing feedback and generally being a completely wonderful audience. I was happy to do this and was glad to share the horror in my head with you guys. Hope you enjoyed the ride <3


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